Moments
by marigoldmystery528
Summary: A collection of short one-shots about different moments. Reviews put a smile on my face, so if you want to make someone happy today, review! Thank you! :)
1. Chapter 1: Rolling Die

The die hit the table with a soft clack. It rolled and rolled and rolled on the table, making a soft whirring noise.

The light hit a corner of the casino red die and made it look transparent for a moment. The soft colors of the die hit the table and made the smooth, wooden table also look red.

And the tiny, white, fletched dots rolled up and down, up and down. The die rolled and rolled and rolled...

And the die stopped. But it didn't stop in the typical sense, one side flat on the table.

No, it hung delicately balancing on one edge, walking a fine line between tipping over and equilibrium.


	2. Chapter 2: Free  Fall

I jumped.

I didn't look at up at him. I knew he would jump with me - he had to, he loved me too much to let me go like that.

I smiled. I loved the feeling, the slowing of time, as one fell. I felt the wind whooshing past my ears, billowing my hair.

"I'm coming home, darlings." I whispered, as images of my _real _children entered my head - her smiling face, his innocent grins.

And then I hit the pavement below.

But I didn't wake up.


	3. Chapter 3: Parting Thoughts

_**Author's Note: Thank you to reviewers, first of all! Also, this was imagined to be a voice-over by Ariadne at the end-ish of the movie. It's not quite as reductionist as the earlier chapters, since I imagined it to be a more stream-of-thought type thing. **_

Success is sweet. No matter what people may say, success at _anything _is sweet, whether that thing be illegal, immoral, or inordinately dangerous.

That was about the only thing I could seem to think about as I walked out of the airplane. Looking back, I'm surprised I didn't think of how happy I was we got out of the job with un-fried brains, or how mad I was at Cobb for not warning us about the inherent dangers, or how confused I was by Arthur's random kiss. I only thought _success is sweet. _(At least, that was all I thought about before I started realizing what had happened, which seems to contradict my previous statements. But ignoring that...)

As I maneuvered through the crowds of formally suited people, I glanced at my teammates. There was Cobb, a slightly bewildered expression on his face, making his way towards the exit. And there was Eames, grinning slightly, but looking far more serious than usual. And there was Yusuf, looking a bit awkward in the sea of Americans. And there was Saito, too, about to be escorted onto a private limousine, looking inordinately pleased yet slightly perturbed. And then there was Arthur. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. I think at that point my brain hadn't had time to fully process the kiss yet, and as a result, I glanced by him like I had with every other person. If only I had smiled, made some sign of recognition to him. I regret it now, but it's far too late.

I felt... a little bereaved, if that is the correct term. I had no idea what the chances were I would see them again - they could range from zero to one hundred as far as I was concerned. But I felt like a piece of my life was being torn off as they all left, steadily.

Before the job, I had been aware that afterwards it would be strictly no contact for two weeks, but still, this utter lack of conversation peeved me. It annoyed me even more because there were only two, monosyllabic words I wished I could have said to them. Pity I never got the chance to. If I had, I would have said: "Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4: Deja Vu

_**Author's Note: Running out of ideas here! OK, that sounded self-inflated. I'm hoping, at any rate, that you guys are actually enjoying this fanfic. :] This is actually fun, so if you had any good ideas for another one-shot type thing, I would much appreciate it if you could message me about it! **_  
_**This chapter is definitely not the greatest... but I felt like I just had to write a one-shot about this (my favorite moment in the movie)... so apologies if you think this is bad! Oh yeah, and I decided not to do reductionist on this one, so it might suck :\ My sincere apologies!**_  
_**And I would like to make a special thank-you to ThousandFaces for reviewing every chapter :] **_  
_**(Lengthy author's note, much?)**_

"Again?" Arthur groaned as he got up from his uncomfortable position on the ground. He eyed the papers and half-broken blue office chair strewn around him and rubbed his aching neck.

Yusuf peered over his large lab glasses and scribbled some things down on a clipboard before shaking his head.

"Not quite the effects expected."

Arthur cracked his back and shifted uncomfortably. "Why me?"

Yusuf gave him a half-hearted chuckle. "You're the only one who actually pays attention to minor details."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Well hurry it up. I've got better things to be doing than landing on my ass after a dream," he huffed, before marching off to resume his research on Fischer.

After about twenty minutes, the dreaded call came again. "Arthur, I need you for a test!"

Arthur sighed, putting down his fountain pen, and ran his hand through his hair. He really did _not _want to have land on his rear end again, but he sort of had to test it for the team.

"Come on, darling, what's taking you so long?" came the onerous British drawl.

Arthur glared at Eames and snapped half-heartedly at him "You try it, jackass."

Eames laughed at Arthur's half-hearted attempt at condescension. "Come on, Arthur, wouldn't want the team to fail would you, darling?"

Another eye-roll from Arthur.

Finally, Arthur extricated himself off his comfortable leather office chair and made his way towards the abhorred blue office chair. He inserted the needle into his vein and shut his eyes, trying to ignore the image of the smirking Eames.

_Arthur was sitting on a park bench, albeit a somewhat weather-worn and musty-smelling one. It seemed to be about seven o'clock in the summer, as the sun was slowly setting, lighting the clouds up in pink and sending orange hues flashing across the park._

_There were many families, all pushing little whining children in strollers, walking around the duck pond, and Arthur spied, with a smirk, a little girl feeding some ducks right next to the "Do not feed ducks" sign._

_There was a large cherry tree in full bloom next to the bench, and the soft sweet aroma of the flowers wafted in Arthur's nostrils. There was a woman nearby talking softly into a cell phone wearing high heels, and her heels made soft clacking noises against the cement as she walked by._

_The scene would have seemed perfectly ordinary had it not been for the faintly burgundy tint on absolutely everything in the park, from the leaves in the pine trees to the small children riding their bicycles. Burgundy was Arthur's preferred color (not his favorite, just preferred), and he like to have everything a little burgundy._

_Arthur was sitting listlessly, relaxing in his park bench, when he heard a small cough and suddenly smelled modeling clay and a vaguely musty smell. _

_"Hey Arthur."_

_Arthur spun around to see a lifelike, complacent Ariadne sitting there next to him, legs crossed, hands jammed between her legs. _

_No, no that couldn't be right. Arthur knew how dangerous it was to project someone real into your dreams - it was one of the easiest ways to lose track of reality without a trip to limbo. He could _not _have projected Ariadne into his dream. It was probably the real Ariadne. But the real Ariadne, Arthur realized much to his dismay, had gone to an art supply shop with Cobb. _

_"Hey Arthur." the phantom Ariadne persisted in its greeting._

_Arthur moved to get up. He needed space, to think about why Ariadne had just popped up in his dream. The last thing he wanted to do was to go and talk to his own subconcious's projection of Ariadne. _

_"Hey Arthur," came the dreaded words again. _

_Arthur stood up, and much to his surprise, the phantom Ariadne grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. She looked up at him with wide eyes. _

_"Don't you want to stay with me?"_

_Arthur's voice caught in his throat. He felt a shudder run down his body. What was he supposed to say to the innocent-seeming, wide-eyed girl asking him if he wanted to stay? Arthur felt his fingers grope for the edge of the bench, in a desperate attempt to find something to hold him steady. _

_"Don't you want to stay with me?" the projection Ariadne seemed to have a large lack of variety in sentence structure._

_Arthur gulped. "Ariadne?" it came out as a question, as though he were asking if it were really her. _

_"Yes, Arthur?" the phantom Ariadne had not moved at all, sitting as still as a statue on the park bench._

_"I have to go..." murmured Arthur, turning a brilliant red. Had Eames been around, he would have likely partied on the spot to see Arthur so utterly uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. But Eames wasn't around._

_"Please. Stay here with me." Ariadne repeated. Her eyes gazed into Arthur's. Those chocolate eyes, irises pulsing, full of emotion and warmth, gazed into Arthur's dark ebony eyes. _

_Arthur complied. He didn't see much else to do, and he slowly seated himself on the edge of the bench._

_"Isn't it beautiful?" the phantom Ariadne asked Arthur, her eyes still fixed on Arthur's face._

_"Not nearly as good as your work," Arthur muttered under his breath. He could feel body heat emanating from Ariadne's body, and he felt uncomfortable in the now hot and sticky atmosphere. He noticed that projections were beginning to leave the park, and that it was beginning to get very humid and hot inside the park. The wind rustling the leaves of the trees had stopped blowing, and even the ducks had stopped quacking._

_Arthur twitched. The lack of comment on the part of the phantom Ariadne's was beginning to bother him. _

_He tried to stand up again. "I need to be going, Ariadne." This time the statement was half-true, Yusuf did want him to walk around, explore the dream a little, to discover any possible differences between formulas._

_The chocolate eyes returned. "Stay here with me."_

_"Ariadne, there's other things I have to be doing."_

_Ariadne scoffed. "Like?"_

_"Well, I have to explore the dreamscape..."_

_At the word "dreamscape" Ariadne froze. Her eyes turned angry, cold, pouting. She glared at him. She looked sad, and then slowly her features changed. They made her look like Arthur had never imagined she could look. Her eyes developed a crazy, frenzied look, and her mouth smirked in a disturbing, psychopathic grin._

_"For the people _up above_?" At the words "up above," she smirked, as though mocking Arthur._

_Arthur shuddered. He felt an odd deja vu at Ariadne's words, as if he had heard them before._

_"Yes, for them." his voice came out sounding much less convinced than he had hoped for it to._

_"So sure of your reality, Arthur?" Ariadne asked, her eyes widening, head turning to look at him better._

_Arthur froze. Those words... they were so _familiar_. He just couldn't bring to mind where he had heard them before._

_"Yes, yes I am Ariadne," Arthur's voice was shaking. He picked at the paint on the edge of the bench, nervous._

_"No creeping doubts? Not feeling persecuted, Arthur? Chased around the globe by anonymous corporations and police forces? The way the projections persecute the dreamer?" Ariadne put a hand on his face._

_Arthur jumped. The skin contact was like an electric current running through his body. He felt like his face was grilled or something - it certainly felt like it was burning in the heat._

_"Please Ariadne. Don't talk like that," Arthur ignored the fact he was talking to a projection. His mind was already starting to buzz. He tried to remember where he had heard those words, but he couldn't._

_Ariadne looked at him, pitying, almost. "Arthur admit it. You're losing your grasp on reality." her voice was soft and a little more sensuous than made Arthur comfortable._

_Arthur looked into her eyes, and suddenly something in him snapped. Some fine delicate balance in him tipped, and he felt a surge of anger. "Who are you to say you know about dreams and reality Ariadne? You've barely done anything!" his voice rose, and a few laggling projections turned to stare at him._

_He pushed Ariadne off him. "Stop it!" he yelled. _

_Arthur felt dizzy. He had never lost control like that before. To have such an outrage like that was unprecedented for him. Cobb had always been the one to blow up without warning at people when French women were mentioned, but Arthur... Arthur never lost control like that._

_He glanced back at Ariadne. But instead of looking hurt, she looked incredibly angry. Her eyes flashed at him, and her lower lip curled and trembled. _

God, where's Yusuf with the fucking kick?_ Arthur thought to himself. He tensed his body (against what he was not sure), and pressed harder on the bench corner._

_"Why? Why do you chose them? Do you think they care?" Ariadne asked, her eyes still angry._

_Arthur shook. _

_"Choose me. Choose to stay here with me Arthur," Ariadne's voice grew slightly kinder._

_Arthur shook his head. "I can't Ariadne. Not now."_

_"Why?"_

_Arthur sucked in his breath and blurted out "Becauseyou'renotreal."_

_Ariadne's eyes flashed with that frenzied anger again. "I'm not real?"_

_Arthur felt his body get thrown to the side. _About time_ he thought to himself. He was going to kill Yusuf for the delayed kick._

_Arthur looked Ariadne straight in the eye. He wouldn't worry about hurting her anymore - he was leaving this nightmare soon._

_"No you're not."_

_"Well you better believe this is real!" Ariadne screamed as she flew at Arthur. Arthur blinked, and before he realized what was happening, he felt something sharp push its way into his stomach._

Arthur woke up panting and sweating, his hands trembling. Yusuf was clacking his tongue to himself, and Eames looked highly entertained.

But Arthur didn't notice any of that. He didn't notice Ariadne and Cobb's return, he didn't notice Yusuf's questioning, and he didn't notice Eames's teasing.

He only realized one thing. That the phantom Ariadne had said the exact same things Mal had.


	5. Chapter 5: Graves

**_Author's Note: Just thought I'd write this, a little idea of mine's. Hope you enjoy!_**

I knelt in front of the headstones. An unearthly quiet rang in my ears. The sun shone unabashedly in a delphinium blue sky. But inside the graveyard, not a sound penetrated the dense silence, save for the song of a bird.

I retrieved the bouquet of lilies, my mother's favorite, and placed it in front of her headstone. I read the inscription on it for the umpteenth time

Ariadne Bishop, September 12, 1992 - December 17, 2084.  
The most beautiful and talented architect ever born.

I turned to the white-washed one next to hers.

Arthur Iowerth, April 2, 1986 - May 22, 2076.  
The most precise, stick-in-the-mud point man I ever met.

And then there was a relatively newer one next to my father's.

Gregory Eames, June 19, 1984 - November 1, 2078  
The British ladies' man Forger.

Another, older one stood beside it, moss lending it a cool, velvety covering.

Yusuf Rao, August 29, 1979 - January 9, 2062  
An excellent chemist, and an even better van driver.

Then I turned to the oldest two, and also (for me) the most touching.

Dominic Cobb, September 1, 1977 - April 4, 2029  
A most devoted father and the absolute best Extractor around.

And finally,

Mallorie Magritte, February 14, 1979 - September 1, 2007  
The beloved, charming Mal.

And on every single gravestone, there were, at the bottom, in curled letters two lines:

Non je ne regrette rien.  
Car ma vie, car mes joies, aujourd'hui ca commence avec vous! *

* These two lines mean "No, I regret nothing. Because today my life and joy begin with you (plural)!" ( I tweaked the lines a little bit). They come from the last lines of Edith Piaf's song "Non je ne regrette rien," the theme song of Inception.


	6. Chapter 6: Pure Creation

**Pure Creation**

_And then you curve it that way..._ I thought to myself as I easily bent the edge of the building to loop up with the other side.

Part of me asked myself what exactly I was intending to build.

I didn't rightly know.

I had started with the standard, somewhat dreary and gray cityscape and slowly morphed random buildings as I wished. As I was the only dreamer, I didn't have to worry about vicious projections of my own subconcious attacking me.

The current skyscraper I was working on had had windows made completely of transparent, slightly greenish tinted glass. I had disliked the perfectly rectangular look and had decided to play around with it a little, first extending the height and making the building incredibly skinny.

But I didn't like what I had done. The building looked like some sort of demented roller coaster, with its numerous twists and turns and tottering base.

After some consideration, I untwisted the last loop. I couldn't think of anything much to do with this particular building I hadn't done already to another building.

At this point, I was probably biting my lip in concentrated thought, as I apparently tend to do when I am thinking hard. After some deliberation, I knew what I was going to make.

The Penrose Triangle.

I carefully untwisted various knots and loops, careful not to shatter the glass windows, and carefully bent it into the twisted shape.

"Paradox." I muttered quietly to myself.

It was beautiful. Perfect, breathtaking in fact. The edges came together so easily. It took me most of my willpower to tear my eyes from it.

Arthur had been right.

It was just... pure creation.


End file.
